


I'll Be Home for Christmas

by Northern_Star



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Christmas, Holidays, M/M, Surprises
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-21
Updated: 2010-12-21
Packaged: 2017-10-23 11:11:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/249638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Northern_Star/pseuds/Northern_Star
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Originally posted <a href="http://happyhockeydays.livejournal.com/10391.html">here</a>.</p>
    </blockquote>





	I'll Be Home for Christmas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Butterfly_Beat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Butterfly_Beat/gifts).



> Originally posted [here](http://happyhockeydays.livejournal.com/10391.html).

Carey took a few steps back from the Christmas tree he'd been decorating. It wasn't a very tall tree, but it had long, broad branches, and it gave out a crisp scent of fir that reminded him of home. He kneeled down to plug in the string of decorative lights into the extension cord, and smiled a little when the tree lit up and tiny colored lights started flashing, creating ornate patterns on the wall.

He stepped back a little further still, admiring his work; lights and baubles, icicles and assorted ornaments hanging from every branch. It wasn't quite the picture-perfect tree he'd envisioned, but it was more than enough for his new house to start feeling like a home. The tree wouldn't be up for very long, nor would he see it very often while it was—they'd gotten back from Raleigh in the early hours of Christmas Eve morning, and were heading right back on the road again in two days, returning only for New Year's—but it would be up for Christmas, and that was the important part.

Satisfied with his decorating work, Carey turned and looked at the mess of empty boxes on the coffee table, realizing all of a sudden that there was one ornament which he'd forgotten to put up on the tree.

As he reached and picked up the tiny little cowboy-santa, complete with chaps and a lasso, his smile turned into a slight frown. With a sigh, he leaned back against the couch's armrest, eyes locked onto the happy santa's face.

He'd gotten that the previous month from Jaro who had picked it up especially for him, when his team was in Nashville just before Thanksgiving. It probably hadn't been meant to be anything or mean anything special; it was just a tiny little tree ornament—rodeo-themed, of course—for Carey's Christmas tree. But when Carey had shown up unexpectedly in St. Louis on Thanksgiving, things had taken on a very different turn than what he'd planned on, and the ornament now stood as a reminder of a blunder that had cast a dark cloud over a relationship that was already showing signs of strain...

~*~*~

_A month before..._

Carey had spent several days, weeks almost, trying to come up with a solution to a problem that didn't seem to have any obvious ones: finding a way to spend time with Jaro. Real time, actual _being together in the same room_ time, as opposed to middle-of-the-night phone calls or random video Skyping when they were lucky enough to both be in their respective homes that day. Their schedules weren't exactly very flexible, and days off not only few and far apart, but they barely ever matched at all. As a result, the last time Carey had held Jaro in his arms had been in September, and by November, Carey had reached the point where he just couldn't take living like this anymore.

He knew that the Canadiens' coaching staff always tried to accommodate players who got traded to the team during the season, whether by allowing them to be excused from practice for a day, or letting them make their own special travel or lodging arrangements while on the road. This way, guys were able to spend time with their loved ones while their family was still in the process of relocating to join them in Montreal.

Of course, Carey realized that none of this applied to him at all, even though _his_ loved one had been traded away during the summer, thereby forcing them to spend the season apart. Their situation was quite different from the one to which this unwritten rule applied, but he had hoped that perhaps they'd be willing to make an exception in his case. It wasn't as though he'd be asking for anything wildly inappropriate, or even that far out of the ordinary. Just a way to spend time with the person he loved, which was a very normal request to make. Besides, considering how well he'd been playing so far this season, Carey figured he probably deserved a break.

The problem there, however, was that the coaching staff had never actually been made aware that this situation even existed; Jaro had always insisted that no one on the team should know that he and Carey were in a relationship. Granted, Josh knew, and Pleks as well—secrets of any kind being impossible to hide from roommates and best friends—but Jaro hadn't wanted anyone _else_ to know, and so they'd never told anyone.

But at that moment, Carey had been certain that there were no solutions other than talking to the coach once and for all. What would it matter if they all knew, anyway? Jaro wasn't on the team anymore, and he wouldn't have to live with the repercussions of his teammates knowing about his love life because these guys weren't his teammates anymore. Carey himself didn't really care if everyone knew—he had no issues coming out of the proverbial closet, nor did he really expect any of his teammates to start treating him any differently because of it. He'd earned their trust and their respect, not to mention that his outstanding stats for the season so far were proof that none of this had any impact whatsoever on his performances on the ice. He didn't expect anyone would run their mouths to the press about it either; there were a few deep, dark secrets being kept between the Habs' dressing room walls already, none of which would ever reach anyone else's ears, let alone the media's.

So, after practice that morning, Carey had gone off to find Kirk Muller, choosing to run his request by the assistant coach as a way to gauge the reaction he might get from management. Kirk was easier to talk to, and more open-minded about things anyway; if he gave any indication that he wasn't okay with this, then Carey would know that he shouldn't even bother bringing it up to the head coach.

"I was wondering," he'd begun, eyes darting left and right in an unusually nervous way. "Since I won't be starting on Friday anyway, I was wondering if you think there's any way I could perhaps be excused from practice on Thursday, and then travel to Atlanta on my own?" He had paused a moment, Kirk's frown making him even more nervous, and then he had finally explained, "I'd like to be able to spend Thanksgiving in St. Louis. You know, if that's not too much to ask..."

Kirk's frown had morphed into a smile. "You guys are still together, then, huh? That's good to hear," he'd said, much to Carey's surprise. "What? Did you really think no one knew?"

"Sort of," Carey had replied with a bit of a shrug. "I mean, Josh knows, but..."

"And I wasn't born yesterday," Kirk had chuckled, patting him on the arm. "Few of us were, in fact. Look, you'll have to talk to Jacques, obviously, but if he needs any convincing let me know and I'll see what I can do to make it happen. As far as I'm concerned, I think you've more than earned a special holiday."

That was how, a very long forty-eight hours, two bumpy flights and a nearly _endless_ taxi ride later, Carey had found himself standing right outside Jaro's house, heart beating wildly as he'd walked up the three small steps leading to the front door and pressed the doorbell button.

Jaro had been absolutely overjoyed upon seeing him there, pulling him into such a tight embrace that Carey could hardly breathe. But when Jaro had looked up, pale green eyes filled with awe, and asked, "How?" as if this was somehow a miraculous happening, Carey had explained that he'd requested a day off for this specific purpose, and all traces of happiness had started to drain from Jaro's expression.

They'd argued over the fact that Jaro still didn't want anyone in Montreal to know about them, that what went on in his bedroom was nobody's business. And for the next hour, Carey had apologized endlessly, insisting that nobody cared back there, and that some had known for quite some time already. He'd pleaded and cajoled until Jaro had finally relented, but the rest of Carey's visit hadn't been anything like the pleasant affair that he'd been hoping for when he'd requested the holiday in the first place. It had been an awkward twenty-four hours, and by the time Carey had had to leave again, there hadn't been nearly enough time to smooth things over properly, and atone for his obvious lack of judgment.

Upon arriving in Atlanta, he'd found the small Christmas ornament in his luggage, wrapped carefully in green tissue paper, and with it a short handwritten explanation: _"Found this in Nashville. He made me think of you."_ There hadn't been anything else besides a few words that Carey didn't know the translation for, though he could have ventured a guess. It seemed obvious that the note had been written before he'd shown up in St. Louis.

After that, while there had been quite a few phone calls still, things hadn't been the same anymore, nor did they show any sign of going back to the way they'd been before Carey's impulsive little trip to St. Louis. The plans they'd originally made to spend Christmas together had seemed forgotten, neither of them bringing up the subject even once.

The prospect of spending the holidays alone hadn't kept Carey from going out on the morning of the 24th and getting a tree to decorate anyway, and blunder or no, the ornament would still be going up on that tree...

~*~*~

Carey pushed back from the armrest and took the two small steps that separated him from the tree. He glanced around for a branch to hang the small cowboy Santa, but found none that wasn't already sagging from the weight of the ones it already held. Cocking his head to the side, he contemplated his options, frowning as he tried to decide what to do. After a short moment, and with a quick snap of the wrist, he grabbed the very ordinary-looking star that sat on the top branch, in lieu of a tree-topper, and lobbed it onto the coffee table. Then he hung the little Santa ornament on the highest branch, angling it just so, making sure it was facing toward the front so anyone walking in would be greeted by cowboy-Santa's big, happy smile.

"Yeah, that's better," he said aloud to no one but himself, and finally satisfied with his tree, he set about to clean the empty boxes off the coffee table and store them back inside one of the movers' boxes he still had lying around in his basement.

Just as he was coming back upstairs again, someone rang the doorbell, so he hurried over to the front door. He opened it, expecting something mundane and ordinary, but instead found Jaro standing there, covered in snow, and his lips taking on a slightly blueish shade.

Carey's eyes went wide and he pulled him inside immediately. "What are you—? How long have you been standing out there?" he asked. "Did you ring before? I didn't hear anything. "

Jaro looked down at his feet a moment, then, "Yeah, no, I wasn't sure if—" he sighed, shrugging a little. "I wasn't sure if you'd want to see me, you know?"

"Why wouldn't I? Of course I want to see you!" Carey replied, frowning. "You mean to say you came all the way out here, stood outside my door for a while, and you would have gone right back home again?"

"Probably not," Jaro admitted, toeing off his shoes. "Looks like a nice place," he said, walking tentatively past Carey and further inside the house.

"Not completely moved in yet, but yeah, it's nice."

"I like the tree," said Jaro, when he reached the living room and saw the Christmas tree there.

"Yeah, someone gave me a cute little ornament," Carey said, standing right behind him. "So I didn't have any choice but to get a tree to put it up."

Jaro slowly turned to face him. "Didn't think you would," he said. At Carey's frown, Jaro went on, "Look, I wanted to say I'm sorry, um, you know, about— well, you know. Could we—" he shrugged, gesturing vaguely with his hands. "Can we go back to how things were," he finally asked. "You know...before?"

"I can't take back the fact that I've told the coach about us," Carey said evenly. "Things can't exactly go back to how they were before."

"Yeah, I know," said Jaro, nodding slowly. "But I was kind of a jerk about that."

"No you weren't," Carey insisted.

Their conversation was interrupted by the first few notes of Carey's cellphone ringtone. He sighed, reaching for the phone on an end table, intending to send the call directly to his voicemail, but then noticed the number on the phone's display.

"I should probably take this," he said, "It's Gio, I need to talk to him anyway. Won't be long." He walked out of the living room just as he answered the call.

Jaro slid out of the jacket he was still wearing, setting it carefully on the back of the couch, then walked up to the window and looked outside at the front yard, and the kids playing in the snow across the street.

Carey came back a few moments later. "Gio's being all captainy," he explained, placing the phone back on the table. "He'd invited those of us who're single to dinner tonight, so we wouldn't spend Christmas Eve alone." He shrugged. "Anyway, so I told him I wasn't going to be alone after all, and of course he guessed that it meant you were here. He said you were more than welcome to come as well, but I didn't think you would, so I told him they'd have to party without me this time."

"Well, you know, if you want to go..." Jaro suggested hesitantly.

"What? And leave you here on your own? That would make _me_ a jerk. Why would I want to do that?"

"No, no," said Jaro rolling his eyes. "I meant, if you wanted to go, maybe we should."

"If it's because you're worried that there isn't any food in my fridge, you're wrong," Carey told him, a frown creasing his brow. "I mean, it won't be anything fancy, but as long as you're here, I don't really care either way."

"I'm not worried about food, I'm just saying that it might be fun, that's all."

Carey considered him for a moment, his frown deepening. "Well, yeah, but—" He sighed, unable to find the right argument. "If we walked in there together, there would be no taking it back and trying to pretend you were _'in the neighborhood'_ or something."

"Yes, I know," Jaro insisted.

"And you're okay with that?" Carey asked, dubious.

Jaro shrugged lightly with one shoulder. "Look, I really overreacted before, and I'm sorry about that, but it made me realize that you were right to tell some people, you know? And, I mean, if they already know, why not spend tonight with them, since they invited us anyway. You know?"

"Well, Gio already knows, but I don't know that everyone who's going to be there does too."

"It doesn't matter," Jaro said, and he reached to take Carey's hand in his. "All I want is to be with you. So if we need to tell more people to make that work, well, then we will, that's all. I missed you, and I don't want to miss you anymore. So yes, if you want to go to that party, then I'm okay with that."

Carey gave him a lopsided smile. "I missed you too," he said, "which is exactly why I don't want to go to that party. I'd much rather have you all to myself." He leaned in and brushed a kiss on Jaro's lips. "But thanks for agreeing to come, it means a lot to me that you would do that. Pretty great Christmas present, I think."

"Well, you mean a lot to me," said Jaro, in a quiet but steady tone. "Merry Christmas."

"Oh, it will be," Carey replied, his smile turning mischievous as he leaned in for another kiss.

  
/End.


End file.
